"Yes, my lady." Trev tilted his head slightly in acquiescence, and then he began to make the tea with a bit of grace that was, perhaps, surprising.
Then again, he was a bachelor, even if he rarely spent much time alone.
The tea was brought over to her and set on the end table beside her. "Excuse me," he murmured as he reached past her to draw thick furs off the back of the couch. He draped these over her lap and tucked them in gently around her, creating a soft, warm cushion to protect her from the chilly air. Her tea was soon brought to her as well, and Trev blew the steam gently off the top before offering it to her.
He himself drew up a chair to sit across from her, and, as they sampled the tea, the firelight drew long shadows against the opposite wall in their images.
"Are you hurt? That is, do you need a wound tended?" Because she was obviously hurt...